


Definitely Solved

by flight815kitsune



Series: problems [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluffy Ending, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Pack Family, Porn With Plot, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight815kitsune/pseuds/flight815kitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after things get hot and heavy, Stiles realizes he has another problem. </p>
<p>Derek bites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely Solved

**Author's Note:**

> I think this might be my last piece in this series. It's been fun, guys.

He tossed Stiles onto his bed. Pulled his shirt off.

Stiles gaped at the defined muscles before him. “You think I'd get used to being surrounded by all this. Nope. All male model wannabes, all the time. You're going to give me a complex.”

Derek paused, his fly halfway down.

Stiles smirked. “I didn't say stop.” He clapped his hands like a sultan in an old movie commanding his harem.

Derek rolled his eyes and slipped off his jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear and it couldn't be more obvious how he wanted this to go. Stiles scrambled to take off his own shirt. He didn't even have it completely off before Derek pounced onto the bed. The springs protested at the added weight and Stiles couldn't help laughing at the amount of bouncing.

He didn't laugh for long. Derek's lips found his, kissing deep. The second the shirt is entirely off, Derek's hands found his wrists, pinning him to the mattress. It was a difficult task to try and take control of a kiss when the one you're trying to take it from has super strength, but Stiles tried.

Derek let go of Stiles' wrists to practically tear his jeans off. His attention went from Stiles' lips to his neck and chest. He straddled Stiles' thigh, one hand on Stiles' hip. His cock rubbed against Stiles' stomach with a very slow, dominating thrust.

He devoured Stiles' neck and shoulder – kissing, licking, sucking, nipping. Stiles arched into him, the fingers buried in Derek's hair pulled. Derek's breath stuttered and then he _growled_.

“Oh god.” It was a breathless plea as Derek pinned him more firmly to the mattress.

Derek groaned, bit down a little harder. His ejaculate striped Stiles' stomach.

Stiles tried to find some friction, but his position limited his options.

Derek released his grip on Stiles' wrist. His lips traveled down Stiles' chest. He lapped up his own cum with long strokes of his tongue.

“Come _on_ -” Stiles' voice creeped higher as that tongue explored his bellybutton. His erection strained against the fabric of his boxers. A growing wet spot darkened the red cotton. Derek's mouth was on him, hot even through the barrier. Stiles' head fell against the wooden headboard with a thunk.

Derek pulled down Stiles' boxers with nails that were just on the right side of too sharp and left them tangled just above his knees. His breath, his lips, his tongue traveled over every exposed millimeter of flesh. “ _Please_ -” It was desperate.

Derek's mouth was on him, damn near swallowing him whole. It was fast and as owning as any of his other actions. When their eyes met and Derek's were red, Stiles came with a loud moan. Derek planted sloppy kisses up his chest. His panted breaths evened out in Stiles' ear. He was heavy and had to have a temperature of a million and three, but Stiles couldn't bring himself to push him away. He ached in all the best ways and a smug grin found it's way to his face. He traced the familiar lines of Derek's tattoo before eventually falling asleep.

 

He woke up to the pale light of dawn. He managed to free himself from Derek's hold with only an annoyed sleepy huff. He stumbled to the bathroom with a stack of clothes. The shower was just cool enough. If he wasn't awake before, the sight of himself in the mirror certainly did the trick. Reddish purple hickeys doted his neck. His shoulder had a defined bite mark, with a couple of scabs from where the skin was broken.

He gripped the edge of the sink. “Shit.”

 

 

“Hey, Scott.” He drummed his fingertips on the countertop while waiting for the toaster. “Random question. When you, uh, became a werewolf, what was that like? Like what were your symptoms before you, you know, _became_ a werewolf?”

A sleepy-eyed Scott yawned as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. He blinked at Stiles before focusing on his throat. “I don't know if I should be proud or disgusted.”

“Proud. Can we go with proud? Operation Seduction was a total success, and you didn't answer the question.”

Scott took his breakfast with him.

 

 

Stiles arrived at work and could feel people's gazes on him. The blonde working the front desk, who hadn't given him the time of day, bit her lip and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He really wished that he was single. Really.

 

He was eating lunch when a stray dog came up to him. Growled. He stood up and tossed him a piece of bologna. The dog was laying at his feet before the end of his break.

Unfortunately, by giving the dog his food he was still hungry. When he stopped to get a burger from the drive-thru, he noticed it tasted...different. When he looked at it, the center was still a deep pink. His stomach growled and he finished it.

 

He was on what could only be termed a patrol by the loosest definition of the word. He saw a kid who was tagging a building drop an aerosol can and run. He caught up to him without an issue.

 

Okay, so he felt a little horny, had animal magnetism going on, ate some raw meat, and wasn't even out of breath after chasing someone. He was going to be a werewolf.

 

 

When Stiles got off of work, he went upstairs and stared at himself in the mirror. What was the difference with Scott? His eyes went gold. Were his eyes gold? No. Well, no more than they ever were. His ears? His ears didn't look any pointier, but that only happened when Scott was totally wolfed out. Maybe it was because of the moon cycles. Maybe he wouldn't get actually wolfy until the next full moon?

Peter cleared his throat from the door. “Will I be able you use this bathroom tonight, or do you have plans to examine your face for _another_ 45 minutes?”

“Peter!” and the excitement in his tone made Peter back up with a suspicious look on his face. “How long does it usually take, for the teeth and the claws and animalistic rage? Or the death? Can't forget about the chance of death.”

At Peter's blank stare, he pulled off his shirt. Peter leaned in close before glancing at the light. He edged past Stiles so that the light was to his back. “What are your symptoms?”

“Lust, energy, eating raw meat.”

Peter hummed.

“So, what's the verdict? When am I going to turn into a werewolf?”

Peter looked him in the face. “You aren't turning into a werewolf.” With Stiles' relieved sigh, he added “You're pregnant.”

“Wait, what? Really?”

“No, not really. Where _did_ the American educational system fail you?” He pushed Stiles out of the bathroom and locked the door.

Stiles banged his palms on the wood. “This is serious!”

“And I don't care.”

Stiles continued to beat on the door.

 

Derek headed upstairs when he heard the commotion. “What's the problem?”

“Oh. Derek. Hi.”

Derek sighed.

“You see, well, I...”

Derek traced his fingertips across Stiles' shoulder. The set of his brow softened, his lips turned downwards. “This is why you've been avoiding me.”

“Technically, I haven't been avoiding you. I just forgot to take my phone with me and didn't see you when I came back.”

“You've been hiding up here for almost an hour.”

“You see, the thing about that-”

“Don't lie to me.” His voice was edged with that hint of alpha command.

“I don't want... this.” Stiles admitted as he gestured to his shoulder.

“Oh.”

 

 

Stiles crossed his arms and stood between Derek and the television. “What gives?”

Derek huffed. “Sit down.”

“No. You haven't touched me in like two weeks and I'm tired of it.” he closed the distance between them. Settled in atop Derek's thighs. “Not even a hug. And that? That's just unacceptable.”

Derek shut his eyes. “You said you didn't want this.”

“I don't want to be a werewolf. So, if you could not break the skin when you get all mouthy I'd appreciate it.” He kissed Derek's forehead.

“You wouldn't turn from that.”

“Yeah, well, I'd rather not risk another lycanthropy scare.” he kissed the tip of Derek's nose. “I like being human.” His lips found Derek's.

“I can't promise it won't happen again.” A hint of resignation had found its way into his tone.

He pulled on Derek's hair to put him in a better position and was rewarded with a soft gasp. “Yeah, that comes with the whole dating-an-alpha thing. Let's just _try_ , okay?”

“Okay.” His hands went to Stiles' hips as Stiles pushed him as far back as the couch would allow. Stiles took control of the kiss and he let him. Stiles on a mission was impossible to deny. One hand stayed buried in his hair, the other trailed down his chest. When Stiles palmed him through his jeans, he couldn't help his hold on Stiles' hips getting tighter.

Stiles fumbled with their zippers, then freed himself from his underwear. He pulled a small bottle from his back pocket and clicked open the cap.

Derek broke the kiss with a smile threatening to take over his features. “You knew you were going to get your way.”

“I'm a lucky guy.” Slick fingers wrapped around them both. Slow, smooth strokes coupled with the rhythm of Stiles' thrusts to be nearly overwhelming.

Derek's mouth went to Stiles' throat.

Stiles pulled him away by his hair and was rewarded with a barely-there moan. “No teeth.” When he let go, Derek sucked on the skin just below his jaw- hard.

It was over all too soon with gasped names and clothes that went straight into the laundry. They made their way upstairs. At the place where the hallways split, Derek grabbed Stiles' hand. He took him back to his room.

The bed was so warm.

 

 

Stiles had gone to work early the next morning. Derek had made scrambled eggs and most of the pack was eating when Cora stomped in with a grimace on her face.

“Who the _hell_ screwed in the living room?” At everyone's blank stare, she added. “It reeks.”

She glared at Scott, who looked to Jackson. When Jackson shrugged, Isaac and Boyd exchanged glances. Peter sighed dramatically and turned to Derek, whose poker face was nearly perfect, if it weren't for the tips of his ears being bright pink. Everyone's eyes turn to him.

“I did not need to know that.” Cora groaned.

 

 

The next movie night, the couch was suprisingly empty. Stiles claimed his spot with a grin.

 

Life was good.

 


End file.
